‘The gossip was more delicious than the food’ January 2, Week 33

I am getting a little tired of people abusing me for pouring my heart out on this blog. Why? The girls don’t have a problem with the life I am leading. They seem to have a problem with my writing about it. I don’t understand why. I value my privacy and therefore, it is an anonymous blog. But why are these women acting like my mother? She is the only one allowed to approve or disapprove my lifestyle. My older bro of course, acts like a member of the Taliban and wants to lock me indoors. If I was in Iran or the interiors of North India, I am sure a male member of extended family would’ve killed me, and people would’ve read about the honour killing in the papers the next morning. Or maybe it would’ve never been reported. I hear that a majority of such cases are not reported. I was reading a piece last month about an Iranian father who shot his three daughters aged 7, 12 and 19 with a Kalashnikov, and filmed it. Saw the video on the net. It is so disturbing. This guy, Mahmoud felt that his daughters had taken embarrassing decisions, making him feel ashamed. He waited until his wife went away to a friend’s wedding before he shot them. If that is good enough reason to kill someone, I am really hoping my dad never reads that piece. I shouldn’t joke about this. I am lucky to be born in a country where I have some rights. That’s why I love Bombay. Yes, I will call it that forever. It will never be Mumbai for me. This city just lets me be. I can do as I please. Live alone, wear what I want, go where I please, date who I like, and hail a cab at 4 am from any corner and reach home without worrying about my safety. Unlike Delhi, where the chances of my getting raped and killed are higher than those of reaching home safely. Which is why whenever I am in Delhi, I make sure someone fetches me to and from the airport, and I don’t go out after dark. Which is restricting. And given that I am currently dating my ex-beau’s older brother, chances are he wants me dead, so I choose never to be alone to avoid an ugly scene in public.

Beau, me and a society bird did lunch two days ago in a new hotspot in the capital, and I must say that the gossip I got from there was far more delicious than the food. I heard about this former actress who is having an affair with her best friend’s husband. How a top actor’s wife, who is originally from Delhi, has smartly cultivated friends with husbands who own private planes, so that she and her gang of friends can hop on whenever they fancy. Talk about being materialistic! And her own husband can afford to buy a plane. It costs a lot less than their London mansion, ‘palace’ in Dubai and other assorted property around the world. Well, you know what they say: money can buy you stuff, it cannot buy you class.

DISCLAIMER : Views expressed above are the author's own.

Comments on this post are closed now

Be the first one to review.

Author

Sonya is single, 20-something and sexy. Her day job is a model. She lives in Bombay but travels the world for her work -- shows and shoots. She is commitment phobic and care a tuppence for what the society thinks or talks about her. When it comes to love and sex, this leggy ramp model has the attitude of a man. But she’s every bit a woman when you talk about the shopaholic she is. Shoes and lingerie are right up there on her list of addictions.
She knows how to have a good time and, boy, does she know of how to give a good time too! Sonya lives life her way and has moved out of her folks' place. She can party real hard and can drink a guy under the table. Gets long famously with men. The women, not surprisingly, don’t quite dig her

Sonya is single, 20-something and sexy. Her day job is a model. She lives in Bombay but travels the world for her work -- shows and shoots. She is commitmen. . .